


Where Would I Be Without You?

by porridgewhore



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex, Older Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 01:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porridgewhore/pseuds/porridgewhore
Summary: After Grace admits to Frankie that she had married Nick, they're both left to pick up the pieces of their puzzling relationship and try to glue it back together - for better, or for worse.





	Where Would I Be Without You?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! In light of recent events, I felt I had to write this... for myself mostly. I feel that there is no better way to feel some sense of closure than to create that security for yourself. So, as I write this, I not only write it as a funky way to predict what may happen in upcoming episodes but as a sentiment to my favorite couple. :) I don't know exactly how long this is going to be, and I don't know when I will finish it (hopefully before the new season comes out in 2020, haha) but I hope you all enjoy it. I also have not checked to see if anyone else has done this because I am so excited to do it myself, so I am sorry if I inadvertently copy your shizzle. And be warned, I haven't had the time to write for a couple years now and I am a little rusty. I'm pretty young and as much as I love writing, I often find myself struggling to catch up with some of the other amazing writers on this forum. Thanks for stopping by!

"I'm so much better because of you."

 

"Me, too! And not only because we went through hell together..."

 

"No, because... because we made it back together."

 

"You're my best friend and my partner, and I- I need you!"

 

"Oh, I need you, too. So let's go home."

 

"Yeah, there's just one thing. I married Nick last night."

 

* * *

 

Even before the words had passed Grace's lips, she regretted them.

 

And as quickly as their collective change of heart had hit them it passed. Grace saw her best friend's face fall from that gorgeous, contagious grin she so easily wore, her eyes lose that sparkle they always had whenever there was good news in the air. She saw her knees buckle and her body follow suit and it almost seemed like there were no words that Grace could have possibly said that were more heartbreaking, more earth-shattering, more life-changing than those which she had just uttered. All she could offer was the warmth of her companionship as she kneeled beside her, begging her heart to tell her the what the right thing to say was and just hoping that her brain would follow through.

 

“You’re marrying Nick,” Frankie nodded but her voice broke when she said  _ Nick _ and Grace swore that she could cry at the very sound of it. The gears in her mind ground against each other in search of an anecdote - something,  _ anything _ , to lighten the mood - but all she could think was-

 

"What are we gonna do?" Frankie took the words right out of Grace's mouth. Her gaze was locked onto the entrancing waves of the ocean, searching for an answer from the Goddess, most likely. Grace shifted to sit cross-legged beside her friend. Her arm brushed past those brown-turned-grey locks and finally settled over Frankie's shoulders. She too was searching.

 

"Well, I don't exactly know," Grace sighed under the weight of Frankie's question. She always had answers. Whenever her daughters came in search of answers she always pointed them in the most logical direction, even if it were not the most moral one. Whenever Frankie had previously come in search of answers they always found them, together. It was a gift granted to her through years of fighting to keep a name in a business world run by men. If she didn't keep on her toes - if she somehow didn't know all the answers and missed her mark one day - she'd be shot down and stampeded like a fox in a hunt. And she'd have to begin again from the very ground on which she started in the first place. Grace Hanson was the woman with all the answers, but now she was speechless.

 

They sat there for a while, watched the sun set in a watercolor mix of reds and oranges and yellows. Their only conversation was in the ocean waves and the birds above. They waited for answers that never came; until the sky turned pink and blue and purple, until the wind was too strong to bear any longer and the waves became wild in the light of the moon. When the time did come for them to leave the beach, their knees ached and they had to pull each other up from the sand.

 

After a few grunts and groans brought on by their ageing joints, Grace placed her fingers under Frankie’s chin, tipping it up to face her, and cupped her face in her hands, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this. We can fix this.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“I promise,” Grace sighed, planting a kiss on the younger woman’s forehead. She offered her hand to hold, but Frankie only crossed her arms together to shield herself from the wind - or at least that’s what Grace would have liked to think if it weren't so obvious that the woman was hurting. Together they ambled back to the house. Frankie claimed exhaustion, trudging to her studio to spend the night on that God-awful couch.  
  


 

* * *

  
  


As Grace prepared for bed, each task brought a new challenge to the surface. She wanted to marry Nick, he had everything she lusted for. Money for travel, a heart for adventure, good status, experiences that she could never have had with Robert… That man was gay, for Christ’s sake, and the entire time she was completely oblivious.

 

Frankie was always up for an adventure, just… not in a worldly way. She had no desire to move, to travel beyond the borders of La Jolla. Whenever Grace was in her company they never really had to go searching. Adventure came to them. Whether it was a new business endeavor full of embarrassing interviews or a day of living as floor people or a Say Yes night. Whether it was as small as a fight for a few seconds added to a crosswalk or as big as one of their kids having a child and getting married. And for the past few years that was something that Grace was okay with. She would admit that she even  _ enjoyed _ it… But could she enjoy it in the years to come?

 

Maybe she could. Either way, she wasn’t going to speak to Frankie until the morning after a good night’s rest and a clear head.

 

But as the hours rolled by it seemed Grace was suddenly capable of anything but sleep. She read, stretched, she put her sleep mask on, drank a straight martini - fuck, she even tried one of Frankie’s stupid meditation methods - but all any of those mindless tasks did for her was drive her closer and closer to breakdown. A sleepless night lay ahead of her, and all she could do was close her eyes and try to calm the incessant questions wreaking havoc in her head.

 

* * *

  
  


“Good morning, Sunshine!” Grace was greeted by Frankie's - surprising - but trademark cheery voice. Also by the smell of those shitty plant-based pancakes that Frankie was obsessed with.

 

“Someone’s up early,” Grace groggily remarked, raising a pencilled brow and rubbing her lower back. Even a hot shower didn’t fix the dull ache in her back from a night of tossing and turning. Immediately she noticed something was wrong with the situation; Frankie never made breakfast.

 

“Hm, not really, honey.”

 

Grace tapped her phone. 10:00. Fuck, she never slept this late. “Well, I don’t think I actually slept last night.” Her puffy eyes were witness to her claim - even her makeup couldn’t cover up the obvious lack of sleep that ravaged her face. She approached Frankie from behind, leaning one arm on the counter beside her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“What?” Frankie feigned ignorance, and Grace noticed.

 

“You know exactly what  _ it _ is,” Grace tried for some eye contact, but Frankie avoided it at all costs. They both had a gift for avoidance.

 

“Pancakes are up!”

 

“ _ Frankie _ .”

 

“Yes, I know. I know. After breakfast.” Frankie had already set out plates and silverware, accompanied by a bottle of some organic maple syrup from a brand Grace had never heard of, let alone seen in any grocery stores.

 

For the most part, they ate quietly, sitting beside each other but not too close for comfort, as Frankie usually ensured it would be. They spoke about little things, like the placement of the ship on the mantle and the ridiculously beautiful weather and how gross the maple syrup was. At one point Frankie brought up how the color on the horizon - where the sea met the sky - seemed to reflect the color of Grace’s eyes exactly. She was met with an eye roll and a flat, “Gee, thanks.”

 

Grace cleared the table, “You, ready to talk yet?”

 

“I’m not sure. Maybe a bit of meditation and my good old friend Mary Jane would help,” Frankie stood from her barstool, but before she could move any further Grace stopped her in her tracks, standing squarely in front of her with her arms crossed.

 

“Frankie-”

 

“Grace, I really don’t think either of us is in the place to talk about this right n-” Frankie tried to push past Grace, but for such a slender woman she could hold herself as strong and unmoving as the Great Wall itself. Years of pestering Brianna and Mallory and being met with the force of angry teenagers had helped her with that.

 

“Yes, we are. I married Nick two days ago. I’m not sure if I can change what I did.”

 

“Sure you can!” Frankie threw up her hands in both exasperation and disbelief, “Just go to the town hall and file for it.”

 

“It’s not that simple, Frances.”

 

“Oh yes it is, Grace Hanson,” her voice rose in volume, “Or it would have been until you told me you needed me - you called me your partner for fuck’s sake!” Frankie - whose dark eyes were now slits - adjusted her tone, “I should have known you were leaving me for that bastard when you left for two weeks without any warning.”

 

If only Frankie knew the cool undertones of that word - partner. “I could say the same for you, leaving for Santa Fe - almost 1000 miles away, mind you - with that old farmer whats-his-name!”

 

“His name is Jacob, thank you very much - I know you know that - and at least I told you beforehand.” Angry tears began to form in Frankie’s eyes but she stood her ground. “And you let me go, you  _ wanted _ me to go, Grace!”

 

“No, I didn’t!” The blonde proclaimed in a tone that was somewhere in between a sob and a shout. She honest to God had tried to retain her pride but she couldn’t bear it any longer. “Frankie, I’ve never wanted you to leave. You’re my best friend.” She took a shaky deep breath, “When we were out there yesterday, I did quite a bit of,” and let it out, “Reflecting.” It’s true, she was almost never caught daydreaming, but the day before was different. There had been little contact between them and the very notion of Frankie and her splitting up made her sick to her stomach. She could only imagine what she would have done with herself after Robert left her had Frankie not been there to help guide her back on the right track. “I realized I could never be the person I am today if it wasn’t for you. You, and your gross pancakes,” she smiled through her tears. “And your relentless sage-cleansing bullshit, and your everyday talks with Miss Mary Jane, and your whiteboard planning sessions. Frankie, if it weren’t for you I would be even more of a self-absorbed ass than I already am.”

 

Frankie looked up from her sandals, offering a deadpan, “You’re telling me, sister.” She must have seen the distraught look on Grace’s face, so she finally let out a soft chuckled, opened her arms, and wrapped them around her friend’s thin frame.

 

“Jesus, Frankie, don’t do that shit to me.”

 

“Sorry, sorry. Got caught up in your moment of defeat. I’m good now.” Frankie held Grace at arm’s length, “Hey, turn that frown upside down. That was all the apology I needed. Now, we just have to figure out how to get through this…”

 

“Together,” Grace finished the sentence, wiping away a stray tear.

 

“You got it, babe.”

 


End file.
